| I’m feeling old
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| I’ve been painted in a portrait that I locked inside the attic now
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| It’s time to stab and let it bleed
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| Because the soul is growing more and more uneasy
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| With the words and lack of feeling that
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| Escape my mouth but don’t deceive
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| Because the fog will seldom break
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| Long enough to safely navigate
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| I wish I could hold you in the air
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| Put you down and with sincerity declare
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| That I believe
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| I’m leaving now
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| From the simple road I’ve taken paved with every phrase and statement used
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| To edify and then repeat
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| I won’t allow
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| My feet to follow false progression of the shallow empty question that
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| Is answered fast but so empty
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| Cause the fog will seldom break
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| Long enough to safely navigate
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| So I’m breaking from blind race
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| I’m digging in my heals
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| Refuse to transfer into canvas
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| And honestly I’ll feel
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| Every doubt and every dispute
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| And fear that dogs my mind
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| And with every challenge I take
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| With every victory
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| I’ll climb higher towards the cloud line
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| Ever gaining clarity
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| When my feet are firmly planted
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| I’ll look out and I will find
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| That I’m breathing out and breathing in the air
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| And the moon the stars the sun they still declare
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| That I believe |